


Skin Deep

by InfernoPunk



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Creepy, Horror, Male Protagonist, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:58:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfernoPunk/pseuds/InfernoPunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would you ask of a being you don't understand?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin Deep

You're truly looking like hell today, I must admit. It really looks like you've given up this time and I have to say I'm a little disappointed in you. Now I don't mean any disrespect it's just that- what was that? No, what was that? I know I saw something in your eyes. Oh. Oh I get it. You think this is my fault don't you. Oh that's exactly what you think. My, you are full of surprises. 

Well I'm not one to take an accusation sitting down. Please allow me to make my defensive and then tell me if you still think that this is because of anyone but yourself.  
Now let's see, where do we start? Well, the beginning is probably as good a place as any. Sure then, let's start there. You've certainly lived a long life so allow me to organize my defense here. 

I've been with you for as long as you were you. Before then even. I have fond memories of embracing your essence in the void before your very matter was divided and built up from the bottom. I watched you like a very proud parental figure. And here I've remained all this time. I am after all just about everywhere you could possibly think I am. The black crevices between your capillaries and within the pores of your bone matter. Oh, and not just there either. I am and have been behind your eyelids and down your throat; I've sat in the pit of your stomach and peered into your soul. And though I've always been present I've never, not even once interfered unless you asked me to. And you have, so I did. 

It was always little stuff. Just to help you get out of bed in the morning. When you suffered a rejection at school- got a bad grade, the girl in math class never gave you the time of day. See? Little things. 

It really wasn't until you were older that I had to really start pulling both of our weights. Then it was things like the day to day stresses that talk you out onto the ledge. I'm sure you have at least some idea of how many times I've had to call you back from there. No offense, but you're quite a fragile little thing.  
I could really go on, but we both know the part I'm getting to. A week ago, yes? My, that was quite a ride. You really had me going there; it was probably the most fun you and I had in a long time. 

I remember it just as you do, make no mistake. We saw the same things that day. You were coming home from work as mundane and middle-class American as ever. It was late so when you saw that the door was unlocked you thought it was a little weird. The light was on upstairs. You recall it, yes? Oh, of course you do. The memory makes your blood boil, I can feel it.

Usually your wife was asleep by this hour, but really in her defense, you had kinda thrown off the routine yourself. Usually, on this day you wouldn't have come home at this time. Fridays were the days you went out drinking with your friends after work but they had both bailed on you. Marital stuff, they laughed; said you'd get it eventually. Oh you sure do now.

You were making your way up to your bedroom when you heard hushed laughter. I remember the flood of emotions at this exact moment, you almost made me nauseous with the hormonal roller coaster surging through your being. You knew what was behind that door, friend. We both did. I was rooting for you, by the way.  
You opened the door anyway. And there was your beautiful wife of two, tiny, little measly years. You hadn't even started a family yet. Well there she was, firmly seated on her old high school classmate's groin. 

You called to me then, just as she noticed you and screamed. You asked me for strength and that's all. So I gave it to you. Now, let me be clear here, because I think this is where things started to get a little cloudy. If I had to guess I'd say it's around here that my innocence in the matter goes into question. 

You asked me for strength and that's all. With no parameters I did what you asked of me and I gave it to you. The quickest way from point A to point B is a straight line, as we all know so that's what I suggested. You did not by any means have to listen to a word I said, but you did and so well...

You charged downstairs, grabbed the pistol out of the kitchen drawer that was there for safety purposes of course. You stormed back into the room where your wife was stumbling around like an oaf and the man who did not belong there was buckling up his belt. The first shot nicked his ear a bit, cause your aim isn't all that great, friend. Granted it's not like you were trained to do this and you were also under an immense amount of stress. Which is why it's actually quite impressive that you shot him dead by the second try. There was no way in hell he was going to be walking away from a bullet to the throat. I'm sure you meant to aim a little further down and to your right but hey, I mean, you got him. Well now there was a witness and it's not like you cared about keeping her around for anything else after all that so you shot her too. And then you held a pillow over her head just to be really damn sure. 

You looked at the carnage in your wake and then you faltered. But I hadn't come all this way to see you crumble right before me. So when you asked me to please, please, help, I did. I gave you urgency and a direction to aim it. You had two bodies to take care of now. Good thing your wife asked you to pick up those big black recycling bags the other day, yeah? Okay, maybe that joke was a little distasteful. 

You had them tied up and were grunting and spitting and sweating as you hauled them out the door to drop into the garbage bin. Well unlucky you, your neighbor who lived across the street heard the shots. And well, it looks a little odd when a sound like that is followed by a visual of a man heaving two large bags outside.  
You asked for my help again, please, please, get you out of this mess. So I obliged without complaint. There was a garden spade leaning against the frame of your house. No witnesses, I reminded you. It was you though who picked up the spade and proceeded to beat in the skull of your elderly neighbor. She was probably on borrowed time anyway though friend, so don't let that one trouble you too much. 

There was no time to bag a third body because clearly, she'd already called the cops. We both heard the sirens. You panicked again, which in your already panicked state was more like a mayday alert. 

You asked me to protect you. Please, please, you didn't want to die. So I told you to go quietly. I couldn't have magically changed the laws for you in such a short amount of time. You'd be in trouble, yes, but they'd give you a bed to sleep in and regular meals for a while. It wouldn't have been the worst thing ever. Well, you got a little overconfident in you abilities and you fought back. They wrestled the gun out of one of your hands and the spade from the other. Not before you scratched up one officer's eye pretty bad. He'll probably never be able to see out of it again so you know, you could chalk that up to a point for yourself if you wished to do so. 

They tossed us into the car and told the radio that you were too volatile to handle without some serious psychological rehabilitation. 

Which... brings us here. 

You've been in this room for a week now; have you lost track of time yet?  
What's that? Oh you're asking me a question. Well, let's hear it.

You want to know what I am. 

Oh, now that's quite interesting. Surely you haven't been interacting with me and asking for my assistance all this time without understanding what and who you're dealing with? Oh. Maybe I've put too much faith in you after all; perhaps I have given you too much credit. 

I suppose if you want to know then I have no apprehension telling you, though really I'm quite taken aback that you've had the nerve to call us equals all this time. 

You see, my dear, ignorant, friend. I am God.


End file.
